


Closer to Hell

by ashinae, jay_linden



Category: Heroes - Fandom
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-11-18
Updated: 2009-11-18
Packaged: 2017-10-03 08:25:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,969
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16070
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ashinae/pseuds/ashinae, https://archiveofourown.org/users/jay_linden/pseuds/jay_linden
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><i>They will not stop watching you.  They will not stop sending people.  And they will not stop using the people you love to get to you, if necessary.  I know, because it's what I would have done.</i></p><p>Warning for dubious consent.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Closer to Hell

The grocery bags felt heavy. Heavier than usual. Of course, Mohinder hadn't slept properly in a few nights--plagued by strange dreams, anxieties, nerves. Also, it was just damned _cold_ in this ridiculous city.

He juggled bags precariously as he closed and locked the door, then set the bags down on the counter and started to put everything away.

"It's a lot harder to carry the groceries when you're buying them for more than yourself, isn't it?"

Mohinder gasped. He dropped a can of soup and it rolled away under the table. "You could have called to tell me you were coming," he snapped.

"When I call to tell you that I'm coming, you're very often mysteriously not here when I arrive. Strange, isn't it?" Bennet said, getting up from the chair he was sitting in and rescuing Mohinder's can of soup.

Mohinder watched him warily, backing up against the counter for a moment. Then he grabbed the eggs and put them in the refrigerator. "I can't imagine why."

Bennet placed the soup on the counter, then moved back to lean against it, watching Mohinder. "Because deep down, you know that what I'm suggesting is the right thing to do. You _want_ to do it. And every time you see me, you come that much closer to saying yes."

"I'm not spy material," Mohinder pointed out, putting away the produce. "They'll see right through me."

"That's why you don't go to them. That's not how it works."

Mohinder turned to him. "Why do you want me to do this? I can't keep Molly safe."

"They have no reason to leave Molly in your care right now," Bennet said, stepping closer to Mohinder. "The only reason why you haven't woken in the middle of the night to find her gone is that they think that you're of potential use."

Mohinder took a step back in turn. "I want nothing to do with them."

"Neither do I. But burying your head in the sand and pretending they don't exist won't make them go away. It won't make them leave you alone. And it will not protect that little girl."

"So my only option is to go along with this ridiculous plan of yours? That hardly seems at all like fair odds."

"Life isn't fair, Doctor Suresh. Haven't you figured that out by now?" There was something different in Bennet's tone than in the other times he'd talked to Mohinder. A tinge of bitterness.

Mohinder looked at him again. "Of course I've figured that out." He shoved the bread none-to-gently in the breadbox. Matt would be annoyed.

"Are you going to continue your research?"

"Yes, I imagine I will."

"Then they will not stop watching you. They will not stop sending people. And they will not stop using the people you love to get to you, if necessary. I know, because it's what I would have done," Bennet said, staring right back at Mohinder.

"And I can trust you?" Mohinder shook his head. "I'm tired of all this."

"Yes. You can," Bennet said simply. "Because we've got more in common than you'd like to think, doctor."

Mohinder's instinct was to reply that they most certainly did not. Instead, he put some tea away, then crumpled up the bags and shoved them into the bag-holder that Molly had absolutely insisted they needed one night after school, to reuse plastic bags.

"I know what it's like to be prepared to protect with your life a child who's not even your own blood. To love them that much. I know what it's like to be normal--painfully, almost pitifully normal--when surrounded by people who can do the most amazing and terrible things," Bennet listed, stepping up behind Mohinder again. "I know what it's like to want to make a difference, to feel like you are making a difference, only to realise that your decisions and choices led to the death of innocents."

_You can't possibly._ Mohinder's hand shook as he poured himself a bit of water. He didn't offer Bennet anything. Maybe if he ignored him, he'd go away. Like a rumour. Or a bad dream.

"Yes. I can." Bennet wasn't a telepath, but it was clear enough what Mohinder was thinking. "I know. And so do you."

Mohinder downed the glass, put it down beside the sink--that would annoy Matt, too--and turned to look at Bennet. He was _tired_. "I don't want to do this."

"I know. But you will." Bennet was right in front of Mohinder now.

"You should leave," Mohinder said, looking up at him. His voice shook, and he damned himself.

"You will," Bennet said, voice a soft murmur. "Because you're like me, Mohinder. You'll do anything to protect your family. Anything at all."

"Please leave," Mohinder whispered. "I can't do this."

"Can't do what, Mohinder?" Bennet whispered back. "The thing that you've already decided to do... or what you still just _want_?"

Mohinder didn't reply. This wasn't fair or right or--anything. He didn't want this. He grasped at the edge of the counter. "Get out of my home," he whispered without conviction.

Bennet shook his head. "I can't."

"Please." Mohinder hated himself for that one word.

"Please, what?" Because Mohinder didn't mean please leave. Bennet was right in his space now, close enough for Mohinder to feel his breath.

"We can't do this again," said Mohinder. Matt wouldn't approve. He couldn't look Molly in the eye. Bennet was _married_. Mohinder tried to shrink back as much as possible, make himself smaller, make himself unnoticeable.

"This is why you haven't said yes yet, isn't it?" Bennet murmured, moving around Mohinder, shifting so that Mohinder was between him, and the cabinet. "Because when you say yes, I leave New York, and go back to my family. I won't be coming by anymore. Not like this."

No. No, not at all--lies. Bennet was arrogant. Full of himself. Full of _lies_. They were not going to end up in this place again, this same dance; it couldn't happen. It _wouldn't_.

Mohinder nodded.

Bennet had the grace not to smirk. "Tell me yes," he whispered, pushing Mohinder back against the counter, staring into his eyes. "Tell me yes, and I'll give you everything you want and can't bring yourself to ask for."

Mohinder's breath escaped him all in one shaky exhale. "Yes," he whispered. "Yes. Yes."

Without another word, Bennet's hand slid into Mohinder's hair and he pulled him into a kiss, holding him there, deepening the kiss, extending it. Barely giving Mohinder time to catch a breath.

Mohinder was damned. He reached up and clutched Bennet's shoulders, leaning into him and the kiss and everything that Bennet wanted to give him. Oh, he was damned.

He didn't break the kiss, not even when he reached down and cupped Mohinder's ass with both hands, hoisting him up off his feet and carrying him like he weighed nothing. Bennet put him down right in front of the table, hands still moving over his ass, still tugging him right up against his own body.

Mohinder moaned faintly, pressed as close to Bennet as he possibly could. They shouldn't be doing this. Mohinder shouldn't want this, but he did, he wanted it desperately, and he arched up to Bennet's unyielding body, drowned in the force of his kiss. _More._

Matt was in training, and he'd go from there to physio. Molly was at school, then she'd go to daycare until Matt picked her up. Bennet knew their schedules almost as well as Mohinder did. He tugged Mohinder's shirt up, then off, only breaking the kiss long enough to remove his shirt.

That made Mohinder gasp. He drew back almost instinctually, shrinking away again. "Here?" he whispered. He shook his head.

Bennet didn't let him get far, holding onto him, brushing his lips against Mohinder's cheek, down his throat. "No? You don't want me to push you back against the table and fuck you into it?"

"Yes," Mohinder said, barely audible, his head tilted to the side even as he arched back over the table--but just a little. "No. Molly... eats on this table. I have a bed, Noah. Please..."

"I didn't think you'd want me in your bed," Bennet admitted, teeth worrying along the curve of Mohinder's neck. He hadn't complained about being fucked into the wall, or the door. Or in the shower. But they'd stayed out of the bedroom, and for once, Bennet hadn't pushed.

"I couldn't look her in the face if... not here." Mohinder lifted his hand to Bennet's shoulder again. "Take me to my bed, if you want me, but we can't do it here." Apparently, he had some principles and shame left. He was amazed that Noah Bennet hadn't stolen those from him, too.

"Climb up," Bennet said, picking Mohinder's shirt up off the table and slinging it over his shoulder, then moving his hands to Mohinder's ass again, wanting him up around his waist.

Mohinder cast his gaze down, almost demure for a moment, then lifted himself up even as Bennet drew him closer. He wrapped his arms around Bennet's neck, his legs around his waist, and he nuzzled his lips across his cheek. "I shouldn't want you like this," he whispered.

"But you do," Bennet murmured back, carrying Mohinder toward his bedroom. "You do want this. You want me."

"Yes. I want you. I _need_ you." Mohinder's breathing was already laboured. It wasn't fair--it was downright embarrassing how quickly Bennet could make him come nearly undone.

Bennet stopped in front of the bed, kissing Mohinder again, hands splayed out across his back, pulling him in closer. He murmured something into Mohinder's mouth, incoherent, just a low sound before he kissed him again, harder, deeper.

Butterflies were frantically moving around in Mohinder's belly, probably trying to escape. He rubbed himself shamelessly against Bennet--he didn't want to be so obvious, so blatant, so disgustingly _wanton_. He blamed Bennet. It was his influence. He had done something to Mohinder.

He kept the kiss going even as he peeled Mohinder off him and laid him out on the bed, carefully removing his glasses before he tugged his own shirt up over his head. "Mohinder," he murmured, following him up onto the bed and straddling his body, lowering himself to press full against him as he kissed Mohinder again.

Mohinder squeezed his eyes tightly shut, even as his hands slid up Bennet's arms, down his back, drawing him in as close as he could. He tangled their legs together, kissing him back, sucking Bennet's tongue into his mouth. _More._ That word again, that voice--distressingly like his own--in the back of his head. _More._

Too many clothes. Too many layers, too much distance between them. Bennet propped himself up with one hand, working his own fly undone first, then Mohinder's. Now if only he could stop kissing him for long enough to actually get them off.

"Give me more." Mohinder was horrified to realise he said that out loud. "Please. Noah." He squirmed under him. "More. You want it as much as I do."

He stared down at Mohinder, then pulled back entirely, tugging Mohinder's pants off quickly, then getting out of his own, in too much of a hurry to care whether he looked dignified or not doing it. "You always want more, don't you, Mohinder?" Bennet murmured, smiling at him, then pressing down against Mohinder's body again, rubbing his cock against Mohinder's.

Mohinder didn't respond. He moaned--shameless!--and arched up, rubbing against Bennet's cock. He was so hard. Bennet was in his _bed_. Bennet was going to take him here. He trembled.

"Is this how you want it, Mohinder?" Bennet murmured, biting at his mouth as his hand moved in between Mohinder's legs, fingers slick from the lube he'd palmed from his pants pocket. "Your cock rubbing against my stomach while I fuck you? Looking up and being able to see me if you open your eyes?" His fingers pushed in as soon as he'd asked the second question.

Mohinder cried out, then covered his mouth. No. No, he didn't--he couldn't. But he spread his legs wider, lifted his hips, pushed against those long invading fingers in his body. He'd never wanted anything so much.

Bennet didn't wait for a proper answer--he didn't need it. He'd always been able to read Mohinder without words. He twisted his fingers inside Mohinder's body, turning them, curling them across his prostate, then fucking him with them all over again. He was already desperate... but Bennet knew that Mohinder could give him more.

Damnit all. Mohinder moved with Bennet's fingers, unable to stop himself, desperate and aching and need curling in his belly. His free hand went down to clutch at Bennet's arm. It shouldn't feel this good. It wasn't supposed to.

His free hand took care of the condom, a third finger pushing inside Mohinder before Bennet pulled them back entirely, pausing with the head of his cock just barely pressing inside Mohinder, both hands going to hold his hips down. "Tell me again. Tell me yes," he murmured.

Silence, for just a moment, except for the harsh panting of Mohinder's breath. He reached up with both hands, grasping the headboard. "Yes," he gasped out, "yes, yes. Take it. Take me."

He didn't make him wait any longer, just pushed his cock inside without another word, without another pause. He groaned, fingers pressing harder against Mohinder's hips as he sank deep inside him, watching Mohinder's face the whole time.

Always this. Always the hot press of Bennet's cock inside him. Hard, rough, dirty, and never in a bed like this. Mohinder on his back, legs spread wide for him--wanton. Undone. He nearly sobbed, tilted his head back, couldn't stand knowing he was being watched. It shouldn't feel this good.

Bennet didn't wait, or give Mohinder time to adjust. Mohinder didn't need it. He didn't want him to wait. He wanted this. Being taken, being used, spread wide and fucked hard, left aching afterward. Bennet knew. And he gave him what he wanted. Every time.

It started as a quiet, slow mantra--"Yes. Yes. Yes." And then Mohinder was crying out, louder, louder, rocking with each thrust of Bennet's hips. _More._ He wanted everything that Bennet would give him. He'd never really said no. He was afraid to find out what his limit was, if he had one, if he'd spread his legs and beg for whatever Bennet wanted to give him.

He didn't stop, didn't speak, his increasingly harder breathing the only sound coming from Bennet. He fucked Mohinder harder, pushed down closer against his body, until Mohinder's cock was rubbing against his stomach with every thrust inside him. Bennet let Mohinder's cries spur him own, used them to guide him.

The shamelessness was the worst part. The noises he made when he felt Bennet's belly against his cock, when the angle of Bennet's hips was just _so_, when he was pushed closer and closer to the edge of everything. Sanity. Dignity. There wasn't anything of him left.

He couldn't even smother the scream that was torn from his lips.

_Fuck!_ Bennet's eyes snapped closed as he felt Mohinder's body tense around his cock, as Mohinder's scream sent a hard shudder moving all the way through him. A last few frenzied thrusts, and he froze, only the faintest tremble in his body as he felt himself come.

Mohinder slumped, boneless, panting, his eyes still closed. He couldn't move. He wasn't ever going to move again, he was certain of it.

Bennet gave himself a minute or two before he forced himself into motion, withdrawing from Mohinder's body, getting rid of the condom and tidying up a little before he lay down beside Mohinder, resting on his side, watching him again.

A moment later, Mohinder turned his head and finally opened his eyes. He stared at Bennet, not saying a word.

"I'll be in touch," Bennet promised, his voice very quiet. "We're going to do great things together, Doctor Suresh. We're going to save the world."

"Of course we are, Mr Bennet," Mohinder whispered.

"I should go. Matt and Molly will be home in a couple of hours, and I know how much Molly loves it when you cook for her," Bennet said, almost daring to reach out and touch Mohinder's cheek, then not allowing himself to do it. He stood up and collected his clothes, dressed quickly, then reached for his glasses and slid them on. Last of all, he picked up the gun he'd left in the drawer of Mohinder's bedside table and tucked it inside his jacket.

Mohinder looked utterly scandalised as he sat up. "When did--where--" He shook his head, gathered the blankets up, tried to cover his nakedness.

Bennet looked over at him and just smiled, adjusting his coat, and bringing one hand up to smooth at his hair. If one didn't know better, they'd never know what Bennet had just been up to not five minutes earlier. "Take care, Mohinder. Be careful. And watch your back."

"You too," Mohinder whispered. He ducked his head, looking at the blanket he clutched with his hand.

He wanted to reassure him, let Mohinder know it was all right. Say something soft and gentle... something to make him feel less ill at ease. But the truth was--this was what Mohinder needed right now. Whether Bennet liked it or not. "I'll call you," he said, looking at Mohinder one more time, then heading out the front door, closing it behind him, then leaning against the hallway wall, closing his eyes.

He'd been damned for a long time. That still didn't make it any easier, every step he took closer to hell.


End file.
